


Shatter

by sunshinevantae (badwolfofbakerstreet)



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Death Note AU, F/M, Genius Kim Taehyung | V, Kinda Dark, M/M, Min Yoongi is a genius, hoseok is mello, i swear taehyung is not as much of a psychopath as light, jimin is misa, jin is ryuk, jungkook is near, might have sexy stuff, namjoon is rem, taehyung is light, watari is too good to not include, yoongi is L
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-08-25 19:24:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16666795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfofbakerstreet/pseuds/sunshinevantae
Summary: Kim Taehyung is bored, but when he finds the answer to that boredom in the form of a notebook that allows him power over life and death, will he go too far? And will Min Yoongi, the only detective capable of arresting him be able to discover his identity before it's too late?BTS Death Note AU based on the manga/anime, but will have its differences. :)





	1. Chapter 1

Tick, tick, tick; the clock on the wall did nothing to ease his boredom as the teacher droned on at the front of the classroom. Something about history, something that he already knew, something he’d studied in his free time one night when he had nothing better to do. His mind recalled the information easily as the ‘pop quiz’ (although he knew it was coming, his teacher wasn’t slick) was placed in front of him. It would be an easy 100, he’d never gotten less than that in any class. Even gym.

Taehyung yawned, he tried not to, but honestly what was the point of masking his boredom? He hated sitting through classes, but he had to get perfect attendance or there would be hell to pay at home, his father expected greatness, and greatness was what he delivered. Not that he had to try hard to deliver such.

The students to the right of him were sniggering, passing a note back and forth, back and forth, unfolding, refolding, writing, giggling, folding, passing. Taehyung watched the exchange numerous times, figured out what they were writing by the loops of the pen, the slant of the letters, the way the girl in the front would stare over her shoulder at him and giggle again before she folded the note and passed it back to her friend. Eyes were on him, and he hated nothing more. They were discussing him, his hair, his clothes, his eyes, his skin. Everything was perfect, dreamy, gorgeous. He’d figured out that much from the direction of the letters they were writing. Of course, it was always the girls who fawned over him, never anyone of interest. He could ask either of them on a date tomorrow and they’d say yes in a heartbeat. Not that he wanted to.

He rolled his eyes and instead decided looking out the window would suit him better than watching the girls. They were boring, but to be quite honest, so were the people outside. So was the tree that stood in the center of the school yard, swaying in the breeze as it blew through it’s leaves. The rain that began to patter down against the window made a light tapping sound as it did so, almost as if it were taunting Taehyung, begging him to come outside, begging him to come and play. Come an play in the grey light, come and spend your hours on a bench learning how to draw a tree perfectly only to crumble it up and throw it away because what was the point of keeping your own artwork?

Art, now that was something Taehyung would have rather been observing, learning about with his time, something other than the history of Hangeul letters, something he’d learned over and over again in his time in school. Yes it was fascinating that it was designed to match the shape of your mouth as you spoke, but little else about the alphabet entertained him. He’d much rather have been staring at a Van Gogh or a Manet, counting the layers of paint upon the canvas and observing the direction of the brush strokes.

A much better way to pass the time than counting the ticking of the clock as the little hand moved around it, better than listening to the girls quietly discuss how cute his nose was, or listening to the wind batter against the window pane as the storm grew stronger.

Taehyung stared at the tree, waited for something of interest to happen, but as usual, nothing did. There was nothing there to catch his attention, to peak his interest. All the people who’d been outside moved inside, they needed to get out of the downpour before it ruined their hair or their outfits of the day. Protect themselves, their looks, their reputations. No one wanted to be known as the wet dog of the school.

Something caught his attention however, something passed through his line of sight as he stared at the tree, something small and black, something dropped from the sky like a piece of sky lab falling off of a shuttle. Something that should not have fallen from such a height in the middle of nowhere. He looked up into the grey clouds and found nothing there, nothing that would have thrown such a thing. He pursed his lips as he searched the grass from afar.

There in the middle of the green lay a rectangle of black, a rectangle protected by the rain, protected from anyone else picking it up. He resolved himself to go find it, to discover what it was.

Perhaps his day got a bit more interesting.

* * *

 

In trying to be the first one out of the class, he accidentally knocked into the two girls who were sat beside him, the ones passing notes. He stopped one from falling over, her name escaped him, luckily they wore name tags.

“Ah, Jisoo, I’m sorry.” He had his hands on her shoulders to hold her upright and she stared up at him with the widest eyes imaginable. She could have been classified as adorable if she didn’t bore the living daylights out of him. He let her go, she stayed in place, stunned by the sudden touch, but he left her behind in order to rush out of the class, down the hall, easily ducking around people he didn’t care to speak to, who called out his name and received no reply. He successfully surpassed the maze of students to make it down the stairs and out the side doors of the building into the yard to find the black rectangle.

As his eyes spotted it in the sea of green and he neared it, he realized it was a notebook. A small, thin thing, obviously not brand new, but not worn to the point that it couldn’t be used. He held it up to look at it closer.

“Death Note?” He said aloud to himself, his fingers running over the impressions on the front of the book, English lettering at that. He tilted his head as he cracked it open, the spine giving way easily, “How to use it?”

It was written in english, which was obviously the most universal language, and that made sense to him. He closed it again, sensing eyes on him and realizing this was probably not something he should open in public. He took his bag off of one shoulder, opening it and shoving the notebook inside, zipping it again, he hooked the free strap over his shoulder, but so the bag was in front of him, not wanting to risk someone opening it and stealing his new found toy.

With the sense of eyes on him, he rushed out of the school yard and began to make his way home.

It was a short trip, hardly anyone in his way, hardly anyone hassling him for polite conversation, something that Taehyung personally hated. He detested feeling like he had to speak to someone, like it was the proper thing to do. Mostly he just nodded his head at anyone who called out his name. Some may have called him a loner, but he was also ridiculously popular. He didn’t need close personal friends to have high standing within the school. He was smart, he was attractive, and he was witty. A killer combination that had everyone throwing themselves at him, no matter what he did to brush them off.

He made it home and barely paid attention to his younger sister, who was standing in the hallway, eating gimbap and talking on her phone. She shouted at him as he quickly ascended his staircase, but he ignored her. He usually ignored her. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, or that they didn’t get along. Actually it was quite the opposite. It was just that he had something burning a hole into his bag and he was itching to inspect it.

Locking his door behind him, he nearly tore into his backpack to retrieve the small black notebook. He plopped it onto his desk, pushing aside his other textbooks and his completed homework assignments. He sat down in his chair, his leg nearly bouncing into the bottom of the desk as he breathed deeply, readying himself to open the book.

It was ridiculous, how excited he was to open something that was probably just a cheap novelty item from a shop somewhere. However, his eyes still widened as he opened the book, taking in the lettering, reading everything intently.

“Death Note: How to use it,” He reads quietly to himself, sniffling quietly, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand. Perhaps standing in the rain wasn’t such a good idea, “The human whose name is written in this note shall die.” He laughed to himself, practically scoffing at the idea that writing someones name down could cause them to die. He closed the book and pushed it aside, realizing how stupid it was that he was so excited over the notebook.

He leaned back in his chair, his hands still on the desk as he looked away from the notebook, instead glancing at his blank TV screen, his cell phone in his pocket, no one to talk to anyway. He sighed and looked back at the notebook, pulling it back to himself and opening it once again.

“This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his or her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.” He made a noise of interest in the back of his throat, pouting out his lips slightly as he continued to read through the rules, there were only five, and that seemed strange to him. Why only five?

He skimmed through the pages of the book, there were names written down page after page, he sighed and decided against looking up the people he saw written down, decided not to research them to see if they were really dead. After all, someone could have written down the names of already dead people to fool you into thinking the book was real. A cheap part favor, that was all it was.

However there was feeling deep within his chest that it was real, that if he wrote down someone’s name, their face in mind, he could really kill them.

“Impossible,” He scoffed and then closed the book, placing it into his desk drawer. He pulled out his phone and skimmed through social media, wondering if he should research the notebook, see if anyone else had one. See if it was some sort of anime or manga that he was unaware of. Which was quite unheard of, he’d practically read every manga available to him.

“Tae! Dinner!” His sister shouted up to him and he stood up from his desk, sparing one final glance to his drawer before he turned his back on it and headed out of his room.

* * *

 

Dinner was finished sooner than Taehyung realized and he was again back in his room, staring at the notebook, wondering if there was a way he could test out it’s power. To see if it was real. Something itching in the back of his skull told him it was real, and that he shouldn’t press his pencil to the page. He should throw it away, cast it aside, get it as far away from himself as possible. He should leave the killing to the murderers that his father caught on a daily basis.

However he was still intrigued, anyone with a sense of curiosity would have been. He slid it into his book bag and decided to go for a walk. It wasn’t too late, he could tell his sister and mother that he was going to the store to get a drink, or a dessert. And that’s what he did, they waved him off with a short list of items to get for them. He shook his head and grinned as he left the house, he really did love his family.

The convenience store was only a short walk away, and it didn’t take him long to get there. He spent his time perusing the aisles for something to purchase for himself while also looking out for something. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he knew he was looking for something. There was some sort of sixth sense sitting in the back of his mind, telling him to keep his eyes open, that he could have an opportunity to test the book.

It came in the form of a group of guys from his school. They were all scum bags, all of them, but none so much as their leader, Jung San, or better known by his ‘street name’ San E. He hated the guy, he was a womanizing asshole who always bumped into Taehyung whenever he saw him. They were standing in front of the shop, laughing loudly at something when a girl passed by them, her pace quickening when she saw them take notice.

“Shit,” Taehyung grumbled to himself, knowing exactly what they were about to do. San nudged his friends, the lollipop hanging out of his mouth a disgusting example of what he wanted the girl to do to him, his friends laughed. He nodded in her direction, and took chase, his friends behind him.

Taehyung followed, his hands digging into his bag.

He lost sight of them as he looked down for a moment to grab the notebook and search for a pencil, but he heard the screaming and knew which direction to run.

Around the corner and down the block a bit, in a darkened back alley, he had the girl pinned up against a wall while his friends laughed behind him, his hands dangerously close to getting underneath her skirt.

Taehyung knew his name, knew his face, and knew what he should do. If it didn’t work, he’d have to intervene in his own way, his years of Tae Kwon Do to back him up should they not cooperate.

He opened the book to the first empty page and wrote down Jung San, the man’s face clear as day in his mind, and checked his watch, checked the little hand as it made it’s way around the circle.

Thirty seconds went by, then thirty five, it counted down to the forty second mark.

Tick, tick, tick.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm back from the dead! and I'll be updating this more regularly! hooray!

He sat in the darkness of his room, his hands shaking, his body shivered as he held the book to his chest. He was sweating, or it had been raining, he couldn’t remember which it had been. He’d run, he’d run faster than he’d ever run before in his life. He’d run away from the scene of the accident as though he’d been the cause of it. How could he have possibly been the cause of it. Things like that weren’t possible. They simply weren’t possible.

Sure there was a possibility, that in some recesses of the world, magic existed. The world was too vast and undiscovered for magic to not be a plausibility. Taehyung was logical, he understood these facts. He understood this. But that didn’t stop the tremors in his hands as he laid the book upon the his desktop and opened it to the page with the name scribbled into it. It didn’t change the fact that he’d watched as Jung San stumbled away from his group of friends, clutching at his chest, and out into the road, where he was hit by an oncoming vehicle. It didn’t change the fact that his friends started screaming after him, leaving the girl they’d been harassing alone to collect herself, and run away crying.

Taehyung felt a sick sense of pride at maybe having had a hand at saving, her. But he didn’t appreciate the guilt that came with it. The knowledge that he’d written this man’s name into a book that claimed to have the power to cause accidental death in anyone he so chose. So long as he knew the name and face of the person.

It was utterly impossible, and yet he’d just had solid proof it worked. But it could have been a coincidence, the world was too complicated to Taehyung to believe coincidences didn’t happen. He shuddered again and flattened the pages of the book, his fingers tracing the indents of the letters of San’s name.

“Impossible,” He muttered to himself, “But entirely possible at the same time.”

Sometimes speaking aloud to himself helped him to figure out his problems, but his voice echoing into the quiet of his room as he felt himself slowly slipping into insanity did nothing to ease his ming and arrange his thoughts. He had no clue how he was going to figure out this problem. He could set up another experiment, he could write another name into the book and see if it worked again.

What name could he write into the book and not feel guilty about?

He chewed on his lip, wondering what his father would do should he come across a book such as this.

“He’d burn it,” Taehyung huffed out a breath through his nose, his head aching. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and groaned, “Who’s someone no one would miss? And someone that maybe deserves it?”

Taehyung thrust his head onto his hand in thought as he tapped his fingers against the pages of the notebook, looking around his room for clues. That’s when it hit him, someone his father might not mind being gone. A convict who was arrested for holding an entire elementary school hostage, someone who almost murdered his father, but he was too quick for him. He’d barely escaped unharmed, but he’d escaped and lived to tell his son about the entire ordeal. He’d even showed him mugshots of the guy, told him his name as well.

Lee Oh Hyun, he was a monster, and the world would be better off without him in it. He could perhaps write a very specific description of the man’s death, that would tell him whether or not it worked. And according to the rules, if the parameters of the death were written within the correct timeframe, it would happen exactly as written, given ability.

He wrote the name, and then wrote the information, and then put the notebook into his desk drawer, leaving it hidden, out of sight. Maybe that would ease his mind, assuage any guilt he might feel after the things he wrote down came true. If they came true.

He stared up at his ceiling, the light streamed in through the slits in his curtains, dancing across the white paint, morphing into shadows, tricking his eyes into believing they were alive.

“Taehyung-” A voice whispered in his mind, calling out to him through the haziness of his sleep, keeping him on the bring of relaxation, lifting the fog and then allowing it to settle once again; his body floating atop his mattress, he didn’t sink, nor did he rise. He floated atop the sheets.

“What?” He heard his own voice answering the whisper, he was unsure whether or not he was awake, whether this was a dream, and the shadows morphing into a face on his ceiling were just a figment of his imagination. There was no one there, calling out to him. The way the face changed into a grin, there was laughter echoing through his room, rather through his mind, sending shivers throughout his body. Shivers akin to the ones he felt the first time he used the book.

He closed his eyes, letting his mind unfurl and reach out towards sleep, pulling his dreams to him. He could only see red in his mind, as he slipped slowly into the dreamscape, his body drifting down into darkness, a sea of red floated up above him. In the sea, he saw the same face from his ceiling, smiling, laughing. Taunting him with an outstretched finger. Beckoning him nearer.

He drifted further away.

He woke up to his phone ringing.

Rolling over in bed, Taehyung picked up his phone, the screen lit up with his father’s name and a picture of the two of them smiling together. He answered and held it to his ear, wiping the sleep away from his eyes with a fisted hand. He cleared his throat.

“Dad?” He asked, confused as to why his father was waking him from his sleep at such an early hour; the previous days events hadn’t even recollected in his mind and he wondered if any of it had been real.

“Taehyung, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’ve called you, uh,” His father stuttered on the other end and he suddenly remembered his notes. It had been a long shot, to write in that his father would be involved in this plot. But there they were, about to have a conversation about it.

“Are you alright?” Taehyung asked, sitting up straight in bed, staring at his desk drawer, wondering if it was really inside, waiting to be used again.

“I’m free,” His father laughed lightly, “I’m finally free. That monster is gone.”

“I’m glad, dad.” Taehyung smiled, his heart hammering in his chest, “I’ll see you at dinner?”  
“Yeah, I’ll see you. Oh and Taehyung?” Tae hummed in response to his father’s inquiring tone, “Don’t tell your mother I told you.”

“Okay, I won’t.” He laughed a little, letting his father know everything was alright; they hung up and he threw his phone onto his pillow, folding his hands onto his lap, he stared at his desk again, wondering if the notebook would be there when he opened the drawer. If it did really happen, if this wasn’t all a coincidence.

His leg shook as he bounced it up and down on the floor, he raised one hand to his mouth and nibbled on his fingers a bit, staring, staring, staring.

He couldn’t take it anymore, he sprang up from his bed and rushed to the desk, tearing open the drawer, finding the black notebook sitting on top of the mess beneath it. His sticky notes and small pads of paper filled with doodles and notes from class that he’d done when he was too bored to pay attention to lectures in which he knew everything already. He picked up the notebook and opened it to the page where he knew his writing would be.

_Lee Oh Hyung, death by heart attack; he requests a phone call at 6:45 am, calling Kim Sun Hyun at work. Threatening that he’ll escape prison and find him and his family. After, Oh Hyung goes to his cell, lays down in bed, and dies quietly._

He closed the book and threw it onto the desk, his hands flying up to cover his face. He could not only control the one dying to the point that he controlled their actions right before death. Up to 24 hours before death, that’s what the book had said. He laughed a little to himself, it was impossible. He couldn’t really be able to do this. Could he?

What possibilities awaited him?

 

* * *

 

**Three weeks later**

 

In a room nearly pitch black, save for the light of a computer screen, a man crouches in front of a laptop. His eyes narrowed at the bright white page, filled with names of criminals who had died over the course of almost a month. Trying to find a connection, trying to find a starting point, but he couldn’t place his finger on it. When had it begun, how was it being executed, and who was responsible.

One thing was for certain, there was a killer to catch.

_And Y would be the one to catch him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm skipping over the killing.... cause... I mean... we get it, he's gonna go ham and kill some criminals. don't worry!! 
> 
> I really wanna skip to the.... other stuff... yeah... OKAY BYE


End file.
